


Giving into the Game

by radishleaf



Series: The Fool, Reversed - Ezra Oneshots [7]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Accidental Confession, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Banter, Established Relationship, Flirting, Fluff, Frottage, Fuckbuddies, M/M, Making Out, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Canon, Spoilers, Swordfighting, Teasing, as established as a pair of fuckbuddies can be lol, ezra's worst nightmare comes to pass, lucio will never let him live it down, sorry if you wanted more lol, stealth flirting ftw, this is 70 percent dialogue/flirting and 30 percent smut, thot lucio strikes again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-27 03:20:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20039062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radishleaf/pseuds/radishleaf
Summary: It was always a challenge, a need to one up each other—that is what Ezra thought of his affair with Lucio. Yet, unfortunate truths come to pass in the heat of the moment, making the magician give into the game they played.





	Giving into the Game

**Author's Note:**

> tfw ur already working on one fic, but get inspiration for another. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> the beginning scene was inspired by a chapter from vassalord, which is a manga i recommend just for the art and the two male leads because i'm a basic bitch who is very, very fond of a composed + flirty duo, haha. if you weren't aware with my fan apprentice and lucio. plus, i needed to practice fighting scenes.
> 
> as always, kindly disregard any grammatical errors, punctuation mistakes, and the like. i tried to be thorough. enjooooy.

The sword felt unfamiliar in his hand—heavy, hard, cold—as if it didn’t belong. Ezra turned it about, feeling its weight, determining his leverage and how tight to hold it. Unlike him, Lucio balanced his with a certain bravado; the tip trained in Ezra’s direction as if ready to strike, even though it was his eyes that pierced through the magician’s heart. He bore witness to that scheming glint several times—especially when backed against a wall—but here, it shined differently.

Lucio didn’t regard Ezra as a bed partner—no, here he was a worthy opponent perfect to get the count’s blood pumping in another way. It made Ezra square his shoulders with confidence. They were always at each other’s throats with challenges, egging the other on, but in the end, they both would “win” in the form of sex. This offered something different—this was a fight, and Ezra was glad to answer Lucio’s instigating advances.

“I’ll have you know, if you’re looking for a true challenge, I’m sorry to disappoint,” Ezra said. “It’s been a long time since I’ve held a sword, and frankly, I’m not very good.”

“Pah, that doesn’t matter,” Lucio said, waving a dismissive hand. “I asked you for a fight, and you’re giving me one. That’s more than enough.”

“Are you sure?” Ezra tilted his head. “It feels more like I’m only here to entertain you.”

“You can see it that way, if you wish,” Lucio said. “In actuality? I want to see what you’re made of.”

“Come now, Lucio,” Ezra said, giving him a hooded look. The corner of his lip perked up. “You know what I’m made of—you’ve seen every inch of me.”

“Y-you know what I mean! I want to see the _other_ side of you—on the battlefield, in the ring. You’re too stiff, too… too composed! It’s annoying! Don’t you ever just want to lose it?”

“I’ve never been prompted to, but there’s a first time for everything,” Ezra said, eyes glancing down to his sword again. He rose it and gave it a little flick, beckoning it at the count. “Enough talk. Weren’t we going to fight?”

A pearly grin cracked on Lucio’s face. “That’s more like it!” he cried, bringing his sword up as well. It glinted against the low lighting in the room, leveled with Ezra’s as he clanged the tips together. “Let’s get this show on the road! Come at me!”

It was the invitation Ezra needed to begin. Even though Lucio gave him the liberty of a first strike, it came clumsily; Ezra’s unstable footing paired with his downward strike easily caught as the count brought his sword up in defense. Metal impacted metal as Lucio pushed against Ezra, testing his resolve. It held strong for but a moment until Lucio loosened his hold, allowing the magician to push him back. The count negotiated the distance, backpedaling some, as Ezra began to round him. Lucio matched his steps the opposite way.

“First strike and you’re already holding back,” Ezra instantly observed. It drew a frown on his face. “I thought you wanted a fight, Lucio. Not something one-sided.”

“If I go at you with my full strength, this would end in two seconds,” Lucio said, flashing him a grin. “I want to toy with you a bit. Is that so wrong?”

“Yes, especially when it feels like you’re mocking me.”

“Oh? Not a good feeling, is it? Now you know what it’s like on the receiving end.”

Ezra would’ve retorted with a quip then and there, but opted for the use of his sword to do the talking. This time, he came low as if aiming for Lucio’s hip, but it went breezily dodged, as did the count’s returning jab at the magician’s chest. A stab up was parried aside, a curving slash barely caught cloth, a strike missed its intended target. Neither of the two were looking to maim or seriously harm, but the more their swords clashed, the more adrenaline bubbled up. A fresh sheen of sweat could be discerned on both men’s brows as they panted from the exertion both physical and mental.

The frustration paired with the burn of the fight cast their spar in a new light—especially on Ezra’s end. After two rounds, only to end up in a stalemate each time, the magician looked to be taking the challenge seriously. He glared with such intensity at the count, Lucio couldn’t deny the spark of delight it sent up his spine.

“_Damn_, you should see the face you’re making right now,” Lucio said, resting his sword on his shoulder. “If looks could kill, I’d being laying prone on the ground right now.”

“_Hush_. Don’t annoy me, or I really will kill you.”

Lucio drew in a sharp breath. “Now’s not the time to be flirting with me, Ezra—as much as I like the sound of that.”

“You actually _want_ me to kill you?”

“It’d be an honor and a pleasure,” Lucio said, giving him a wink. “Too bad you’re lacking in the ability to do so.”

The prickle across Ezra’s temple suddenly throbbed in annoyance. He was getting angry—no, he was _already_ angry. It fueled something uncharacteristic in him as Ezra came at Lucio again, but the count had expected thus. The magician’s sword clanged against the metal of Lucio’s gauntlet as he wrapped fingers about the tip. This unexpected move jolted Ezra to stop with a start; this hesitance leading to Lucio disarming him by ripping the sword from his hands. He tossed it unceremoniously over his shoulder, completely ignoring it as it came to a clattering landing in the corner of the room.

Ezra’s eyes widened to the whites as Lucio smiled devilishly at him. The count hooked a foot behind Ezra’s ankle, bringing him to a knee as he lost his balance. When his face shot up to shoot a defiant glare Lucio’s way, he was met with the tip of the count’s sword, immediately paling in the face of his purported defeat. The count stood triumphant, reveling in satisfaction to see Ezra below him. But he wasn’t done with him yet.

“Say I won,” Lucio demanded, his voice edged with teasing. “Go on. Say it.”

“I refuse,” Ezra returned, pursing his lips. “Isn’t your apparent victory more than enough?”

“Mmm, no. No, it’s not. You’re stubborn to a fault, Ezra. I’ve been the target of that half of you time and time again. Part of me _wants_ to humiliate you.”

“You’re an awful man, Lucio.”

“As I’ve been told many, many times, Ezra. Not just by you.”

The tip of Lucio’s sword caught the edge of Ezra’s chin, lifting it higher as the magician sneered down his nose. Ezra’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly. He thought the count would stop there, but he proceeded, stepping closer as he guided the sword lower. Sharpened metal slide along the curve of Ezra’s jaw, before coming to rest at a main vein that, with a single deep cut, could kill the magician in seconds. It throbbed fastidiously under Lucio’s blade, signaling Ezra’s frenetic, racing heart. Yet, his face betrayed nothing, as if refusing to give Lucio that added satisfaction of seeing him terrified.

“If you’re going to kill me, just do it,” Ezra said through clenched teeth. His entire being was focused on the tip of that blade pressed against his throat. “Put me out of this misery.”

“The temptation is strong,”—Lucio said, adding a little weight to the sword to draw blood—“but honestly, where’s the fun in that? You’re far more entertaining alive.”

Ezra released a bedraggled sigh of relief when the count withdrew his sword and tossed it aside. The small cut Lucio left on him stung with pain; a dribble of red streaming down Ezra’s neck. The magician touched fingers to it and frowned as he stood, directing it Lucio’s way for the umpteenth time.

“Don’t joke like that ever again,” Ezra warned. “I’m not your plaything.”

Lucio spread his hands. “Now I’m the bad guy because you got your just desserts?” He tut-tutted him. “For shame, Ezra. I thought you were a better person than that.”

“I am,” Ezra said. “I just have awful tastes in awful men.”

Lucio chuckled. “As do I,” he said, reaching for him.

Ezra’s blood still boiled, but much to his chagrin, he calmed when Lucio slid hands about his waist. Their bodies came together flush as Lucio backed Ezra up against the wall; the heat that wafted off of them both intermingling from their recent exertion. That flame in Ezra’s belly flickered to life once more as he twined arms about Lucio’s neck and kissed him; gently at first, then with such conviction it felt as if he were laying himself bare.

In the months that followed since their first time, Ezra waved away his dignity, allowing himself to be vulnerable with the count. It was a difficult thing to fight, but the magician gave in. It was why his relationship with Lucio had become so easy, and also why it worked—like slotting a final missing piece into a very simple puzzle. Ezra had subsumed their relationship down to how others might view it, but once those thoughts were removed, it was easier. He would go as far to say he was _happy_, though he would never tell Lucio he was.

Especially when, in the midst of it all, something had grown. But despite all of the things he’d been strong enough to give up, Ezra hadn’t the strength to face what it was yet. Not when the physical seemed to give out that answer so readily.

Lucio pulled back just enough to speak. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked against Ezra’s lips. “You’re okay, right?”

Ezra’s face softened even as his chest squeezed enough to hurt. It was times like these when he faltered. “No,” he said quietly. “I’m okay, Lucio. You didn’t hurt me. Save the small nick on my neck, but it’s nothing serious.”

“But still…” Lucio kissed his jaw, nosed the small nook behind his ear. “I_ still _hurt you. I hadn’t intended to.”

Ezra carded fingers through his flaxen locks. It swelled mixed feelings in his head to hear him speak like that, even if the magician didn’t want to hold it against him. “We were both caught up in the heat of the moment, Lucio. It’s okay. I said it was.”

“I’m sorry.”

Lucio peppered kisses across Ezra’s neck in tandem with his gauntlet reaching under his coat to draw down against the skin of his back. Ezra grunted, mirth flooding his mind as he keened into the touch. Yet, even he thought it odd for Lucio to apologize when he was hurting him more. If he wasn’t so weak to it—to _him_—Ezra might’ve stressed the issue, but the rough was so commonplace between them, he let it slide.

Lucio laved his tongue over the small scar he left, tasting the blood, before nibbling at it. Ezra felt his knees tremor from the pain; Lucio knew what buttons to push to get him hot and bothered. But with the lack of essentials and the fact their previous time doing it against a wall had them tumbling to the floor, Ezra splayed a hand on Lucio’s chest, and pushed him away.

“We should stop there,” Ezra said reluctantly. “Before we get carried away. Again.”

Lucio huffed. “Do we have to?” he whined. “We were _just_ getting to the good part.”

“Yes, Lucio. We have to.” Ezra felt like a mother addressing a child. “Remember what happened last time?”

Lucio rolled his eyes. “Listen, it was a good idea.”

“In _theory_.”

“_Please_, I’ve done it before.”

“Good for you, but I nearly broke my wrist when you landed on top of me. It was twisted in an awful way.”

“But you’re still fine!”

“For now.”

Lucio sighed. “_Fine_. We can stop here.” He extricated himself from Ezra’s person. “Besides, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Ezra fixed his askew glasses, pushing them higher up on the bridge of his nose. “What’s that?”

“Nadia wanted me to invite you to lunch,” he said. “The other courtiers will be there. For some reason or another, she wanted you to meet them.”

Ezra hummed. “And will you be there?”

“_Me?_ Heavens, no. I will be conveniently occupied sleeping in bed until late evening.”

“_Lucio_.” Ezra visibly pouted, actually stunning Lucio even when he’d done it plenty of times before. Sure, it was rare, but the magician had loosened up considerably over the last few months. “You can’t expect me to suffer alone.”

“Y-yea, well, it’s going to be _boring_, Ezra. They’ll just be talking about politics, the state of Vesuvia, the food. You think I really want to participate in that snore fest?”

Ezra almost laughed at the count’s description, but cleared his throat to hide it. “Even if it will be boring, wouldn’t I be fun company?” he said. “You said it yourself—I’m _entertaining_.”

Lucio grimaced. “Damn, I did say that, didn’t I?”

“With a sword held to my throat, yes.”

“I apologized for that already, Ezra.”

“I know, but what a better way to show you mean it by attending this lunch with me,” he said. “It wouldn’t be as insufferable as you make it out to be if we’re both there.”

Lucio rose a brow, grinning. “You really don’t like parties or get-togethers or anything social, do you?” he asked.

Ezra harrumphed. “Honestly? No. Not when being in _your_ company is like trying to deal with five people at once.” He began to walk away. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to have a bath.”

The count stood there, stunned. He could never understand how Ezra could do a complete 180 so quickly. “H-hey, wait!” he cried, hustling after him. “At least let me join you!”

“Agree to attend this lunch with me and you can,” he said.

“F-fine! Fine, I’ll come with you to that stupid lunch! Now wait up!”

* * *

The dining hall was divine, befitting the decadence of the count of Vesuvia. Ezra could discern his touch of aesthetic in the red walls gilded gold, let alone the sizeable painting on the eastern wall. Yet, Ezra hadn’t a moment to marvel at it all as he always did when he came to the palace, because he and Lucio were late. Clambering steps echoed down the long corridor as the two men buttoned buttons and flattened collars, only to stop just before the twin doors that opened into the dining room.

Glancing to the count, Ezra frowned when he continued to fix the fall of his cloak to no avail. “This is all your fault, you know,” he whispered tersely to him. “It was _your_ bright idea to feel me up before lunch.”

Lucio held his chin high. “Best ten minutes of my life.”

“_It was thirty._”

His chin rose higher. “Best thirty minutes of my life.”

Ezra rolled his eyes. “Gods, you’re insufferable,” he said, breezing passed Lucio to push at the doors. He stopped to level a plaintive look at him. “You better be on your best behavior.”

Lucio laughed. “You sound just like Noddy,” he said. “You’ve definitely been spending too much time in her company.”

Immediately, the intermingled scents of spice and sweet hit Ezra’s nostrils, filling him from crown to toe with nostalgia. He almost doubled back from it; it’d been literal years since he last beheld something akin to his mother’s cooking. At once, the magician’s eyes fell on Nadia in appreciation, before drifting to the two bodies that rose with her come the entrance of the count.

He tipped toward Lucio as the count wriggled his nose at the unfamiliar dishes. “You told me there were five courtiers,” he said. “Why are there only two?”

“As if I would know,” Lucio shot back, giving him a one shoulder shrug. “No one tells me _anything_, Ezra.”

“You’re _supposed_ to find out—you’re the count.”

Lucio thinned lips at him. “I wasn’t even supposed to _be_ here,” he said. “But thanks to a certain someone, I had no choice!”

In tandem, the two cleared the distance between the door and the table, exchanging nods and bids of greeting before all five sat. Ezra immediately thought the seating arrangements odd; he sat between Nadia, who claimed the head seat at the table, while Lucio settled into his right. The magician flicked his eyes between the two, wondering why he was caught in the middle, before a wayward comment piqued his attention between the rush of servants filling their glasses with wine.

“Ah, it seems our most esteemed count has finally arrived,” said a young-looking man that sat across from the magician. “Fashionably late, I presume?” The man’s eyes leveled on Ezra behind the rim of his wine glass when he said this. “And in the company of a guest, no less.”

Ezra’s eyes immediately shot to Lucio, who _still _continued to fiddle with his cloak and askew attire. The count ducked his head, but said nothing on the matter, as Nadia cleared her throat.

“An _honorable_ guest, Consul Valerius,” Nadia said, correcting him. “This is Ezra Locke, the magician from the outer limits of Vesuvia I wished to introduce you to.”

“Ahhh, yes. That magician you spoke of.” Golden eyes settled on Ezra, taking in every inch of him. The magician refused to acknowledge him, but knew at once that with the consul there, this would prove to be a very, very interesting lunch. “What curious company he appears to be…”

“He is wonderful company,” Nadia said warmly, smiling at Ezra, before it slipped from her face at Valerius’s comment. “And I should hope, by inviting him here, you too would understand why.”

Ezra’s attempt to thank the countess for her compliment went unsaid as a shrill whine suddenly erupted from the courtier beside Valerius. A mousy-looking thing, the woman’s dainty fingers strained the skin of her cheeks as she pulled them down. “Oooh! W-who cares for introductions, I’m _starving!_” she cried, one hand slipping from her face to grubbily wiggle at the many dishes upon the dining table. “Can’t we eat yet? Can’t we? You made us wait long enough!”

“Patience, Procurator Volta,” Nadia said, twisting her lip up in disgust. “The food can wait—I’m in the midst of introducing you to Ezra.”

“B-but, but it’d only be _slightly_ hot when we eat!”

“_Patience_.”

Volta trembled to silence in her seat, but her eagerness was evident as she now tugged at her chapped lips, drool dribbling from one corner. Ezra actually felt for her, as his gut twisted with a pang of hunger, but he ignored it for the sake of Nadia. Lucio, who was strangely quiet the entire time, finally piped up, as if ashamed no one paid him any mind.

“Valey, where are the others?” Lucio said, waving a hand at a set of empty chairs. “Don’t they wish to dine with their count?”

Valerius winced, knuckles straining white about his glass of wine at his purported nickname. Ezra thought if he squeezed it any harder, it would burst in his hand—not that he doubted the consul already ruined a cabinet’s worth of fine crystal.

“The _others_ are busy,” Valerius said as steadily as he could. “Vlastomil said he had to tend to his worms, Vulgora said they had to punch things, and Valdemar… well…”

“Quaestor Valdemar didn’t give a reason, but it can be accepted in good graces they’re continuing their studies on the plague,” Nadia supplied. “The other courtiers will be caught up to speed on what is discussed today, and another lunch will be arranged so that they may have a chance to formally meet you, Ezra.”

Ezra smiled sheepishly. “That isn’t required, countess,” he said.

“Nonsense,” Nadia said. “If I could, I would introduce you to every person of my court.”

“C-countess…”

Lucio huffed. “Then it would be expected of me to attend those lunches, as well?” he said, eying Ezra grumpily.

“Contrarily, dear, it’s a surprise to even see you _here_,” Nadia said. “I must thank Ezra for whatever magic he conjured up to have you in our company.”

“Mm, quite. Count Lucio appears quite ensorcelled by our magician,” Valerius said.

Ezra contained his composure, despite his knee-jerk need to glare at the consul. “I’m good friends with both the count and the countess,” he said. “It would be a pity not to spend this wonderful lunch in both of their company.”

Valerius hummed, his judgement ambiguous, as Nadia nodded her head approvingly. “What an appreciative statement to segue us into lunch,” she said. “Shall we?”

Volta perked up giddily. “Yes, let’s! Let’s eat at once!” she cried.

Unsurprisingly, the procurator was the first to dine as her plate almost toppled from the mountain of food piled upon it. Nadia and Valerius took modest servings, while Ezra allowed himself a little greed (though not to the extent of Volta). Lucio appeared content with his wine, plate pristinely clean, drawing a remark from his wife.

“Will you not eat, dear?” she asked, though more pressed of him. “All of these foods were prepared with Ezra in mind.”

“I’m just fine, Noddy,” he said, taking a long sip of from his glass. “Don’t really have an appetite.”

“Maybe his appetite was already satiated?” Valerius said.

“In more ways than one,” Lucio said, grinning toothily at Ezra.

“What a pity,” Ezra said, breezily ignoring him. “Your chefs did a wonderful job preparing this food, Countess Nadia.”

“I asked them to with you in mind,” Nadia said. “I know these dishes may pale in comparison to your home country or mother’s cooking, but I’m warmed by your appreciation.”

“Pray tell, where are these foods from, anyhow?” Valerius asked, turning about a sliver of lamb meat coated in unknown spices and honey on his fork. “I’ve never tasted such a thing.”

“Ah, these are staple dishes of Ravidia—my mother’s home country,” Ezra said.

“I’ve never heard of it.”

“It doesn’t exist anymore. Nevivon overtook it when my mother was a girl, but Jemima still thinks of it fondly. To her, it’s still around.”

“Speaking of your parents, Countess Nadia tells me you’re of noble birth?” Valerius nibbled at the piece of meat. “That would be on your father’s side, yes?”

“_Really?_” Lucio interjected, chin rested in the palm of his gauntlet while the other swirled about a new cup of wine. Ezra wondered how many he had in that short span of time; his cheeks were already tinged red. “I’ve never heard of this, Ezra.”

Ezra glanced to the count. “You never showed interest in my background, Count Lucio,” he said. “But yes, I’m of noble birth on my father’s side. Cyrus is a resident of Vesuvia, my mother of commoner blood. She married into nobility.”

“_Ohhhh_, do tell me more,” Lucio encouraged, leaning into Ezra’s space again.

The magician opened his mouth to explain, but was started when he felt the tip of a shoe nudge up the exposed skin of his ankle. Ezra immediately glared at the count, but Lucio simply smiled, betraying nothing.

“Ah, yes. Your mother told me the story of how she and your father met,” Nadia said. “What a touching story it was.”

“Mm, if you feel inclined, you could share it,” Valerius said. “I’m positive Count Lucio would love to hear it.”

“You bet I would,” Lucio agreed.

Ezra pursed his lips at the consul. “I haven’t the… talent to tell it like my mother would,” he said. “Nor do I know all of the details.”

“Then, do please invite Jemima to the next lunch,” Nadia said. “She can relay the story to all of us then. I would be pleased to hear it again.”

“Your mom… Your mom… Right! I remember her now—that, that woman with the white hair,” Lucio said, motioning to his head. “S-she was, like, super hot for a woman that old. It’s no wonder where you get your good looks from, Ezra. And… _other_ things.”

Ezra drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. “I… thank you for that, Count Lucio.”

Nadia rose a quizzical brow, but said nothing on the matter, while Valerius appeared to hide a laugh behind a mouthful of wine. Soon, the conversation devolved into silence as the five of them (save Volta, who chewed loudly and sloppily) finished their meals. Once they all appeared done (save, once again, Volta, who insisted on licking everyone’s plates clean; her request went ignored), Nadia motioned to the standby servants, who swiftly removed their plates and utensils, leaving only their glasses and an extra jug of wine.

When Nadia reached for her glass, Valerius obliged her, and filled her cup. “Countess Nadia, if I may,” he began, “you brought up the plague earlier. What is your opinion on the matter?”

Nadia studied the swill of red in her glass. Her brows turned up dolefully as she said, “My heart goes out to the people of Vesuvia and those who have lost loved ones already. For now, the plague is contained, but it has already spread in record time. There is no telling when the epidemic may increase. I only hope our doctors find a cure before that time comes.”

“Mm, well said, countess. I wholeheartedly agree. And, you?” Valerius turned to Ezra. “What do you think of the plague?”

Ezra sipped a bit of his untouched wine. “Well,” he said. “I admit: I haven’t much information on the matter. I can’t quite form an opinion at this time.”

Nadia’s eyes widened. “Really? Then how have you uncovered your information?”

“Whatever I hear through the grapevine,” Ezra said. “From friends, customers… But even they aren’t well-informed.”

“Dear?” Nadia looked at Lucio. “Have you… not made an official decree about the plague as of yet?”

Lucio blinked at his wife, head lolling slightly. By now, he was already warmly buzzed on wine. “Huh? What? N-no, why would I?”

Ezra could hear Nadia grind her teeth. “Because, _dear_, the people of Vesuvia have a right to know.”

“Oh, well, uh… I’m sorry, I haven’t. I’ve just been, y’know…” Lucio favored Ezra’s side again, reaching over to grip his knee. Ezra stilled, trying his best not to tremble as the count worked his touch up to squeeze his inner thigh. “I’ve been really… _distracted_… lately. Haven’t had much but that thing on my mind.”

Nadia cringed, all but prepared to launch across the table and wring the life out of her irresponsible husband. Opposite her, Valerius appeared composed, silently collecting his thoughts behind a few gulps of wine. When he prepared to speak, his attention was completely on Ezra.

“And as of late, you’ve been in his company, haven’t you, Ezra?” he said.

Nadia looked at him, incredulous. “Is this true?” she asked.

Ezra swallowed thickly, thoughts stymieing upon having the spotlight shined on him. “A-ah, well… Y-yes. Yes, this is true, but how…?”

“Just as you do, I hear things through the grapevine,” Valerius returned. “It’s not a secret, is it? You have mentioned you are good friends with both the count _and_ the countess.”

“We’re _great_ friends,” Lucio said. “We know each other… intimately.”

“E-Ezra,” Nadia said, giving a strained smile. “I… never knew. I thought your contact with my husband was limited. Since, well, months ago, when he made unsavory advances on you.”

Ezra cleared his throat. “I had intentions, but they, um, have fallen through.”

Valerius hummed. “From one “friend” onto another,” he commented, letting the meaning of those words hang in the air. “Passing people along _so_ easily… Isn’t that just like Count Lucio, countess?”

“Yes…” Nadia said. “Though I never thought that next “friend” would be _you_, Ezra…”

“C-Countess Nadia, I—”

“Oh, Valey, cut the shit,” Lucio interjected. “If you’re so sour about being replaced, you could’ve just told me. I wouldn’t have cared, but at least it’d get you off the blasted matter.”

Ezra blinked, exchanging glances between the count and the consul. “You mean…?”

“There was _nothing_ between us,” Valerius said firmly. “Nothing _at all_. What Count Lucio speaks of is complete nonsense. Obviously, it’s the wine talking.”

“Nonsense? Why, it’s your who came onto—”

“Count Lucio, would you _please_ refrain from speaking? You’re already drunk.”

A connivingly smile spread on Ezra’s face. It was all starting to make sense now. Valerius and Lucio were once involved—it explained the consul’s unexplained animosity toward him since they sat down for lunch. He was downright jealous, even if he was reluctant to admit thus.

“Consul Valerius,” Ezra said, now sizing him up. The magician was now composed, calm, as he prepared his retaliation. “If the count cannot speak, then please let me in his stead. If it isn’t too presumptuous of me, I would dare say you’re, mm, rather insecure about my friendship with Lucio. Is that not true?”

“_Excuse me?_” Valerius snapped, his wine glass splintering in his grip. “I am nothing of the sort!”

“There’s nothing wrong with how you feel, consul.”

“I never—!”

“Jealousy is a natural emotion. You are allowed to feel what you feel.”

Ezra saw white hot fury burn in Valerius’s eyes. Suddenly, the glass he held was whipped out before him, splattering a long trail of red across the dinner table in Ezra’s direction. Nadia gasped just as Ezra snapped his eyes shut in expectation.

However, when he felt not a drop touch him, the magician cracked his eyes open to see a body before him. At just the right moment, Lucio intercepted the splash. Wine dribbled down his face and stained his white jacket; the only thing effervescently pristine his pearly smile.

A tremble passed through Valerius as his glass clattered to the dining table. “C-count Lucio,” he muttered. “My apologies, I—”

“Enough, Consul Valerius. I think you’ve made your peace with that insulting gesture,” Nadia said, sneering down at him.

Valerius shrunk under her steely resolve. “Yes, countess…”

Lucio grabbed up his napkin and wiped the wine from his face. Turning to Ezra, he asked, “Are you okay? None hit you, right?”

Ezra smiled at him. “No, I’m just fine. Your heroic action saved me in the nick of time.”

Lucio puffed out his chest. “As expected of the great count of Vesuvia,” he said.

Nadia sighed. “This wasn’t how I wished to end our lunch together, but… To save ourselves from any more outbursts, I think it would be best to end this early. Dear, please go clean yourself up. Ezra, you too. Consul Valerius, I would like to have a word with you. Please meet me in the foyer.”

Valerius stood at once. “Of course, countess. I’ll be waiting there until your arrival.”

“Mhm. Thank you.”

Ezra’s gaze was trained worriedly on Nadia, but his attention was pulled aside by Lucio insisting him to his feet. “Well, you heard Noddy,” he said. “Let’s go clean ourselves up.”

The magician swallowed. “Y-yes,” he said as he was led along. Before he left, he called out his thanks to Nadia for the meal, but his words appeared to go unheard.

Lucio dragged Ezra all the way back to his quarters on the far side of the palace. Ezra could only contain himself until they were behind closed doors. Lucio appeared ready to ask him about his well-being again, but Ezra dissolved into uproarious laughter, drawing a smile on the count’s face as well.

“T-that man… That Valerius… I-I’d say he’s more of a child than you are,” Ezra said between chortles. “He… H-he actually tossed his wine at me. His wine! I never expected he would!”

“Neither did I,” Lucio said, pulling at his stained jacket. “Though I can say: He’s got great aim.”

Ezra chuckled. “He does. He honestly does.”

“Though, I’m sorry you had to hear that. I never wanted you to find out I had an affair with _him_.”

“Why not? It’s not as if I’m unaware.”

“Yes, I _know_, but you see why. The man has awful tantrums.”

“Then you two were a match made in heaven.”

“Says you, but I rather an awful man with awful tastes.”

Ezra smiled. He reached for the count, trailing hands down his jacket as he popped the buttons loose. Lucio’s eyes dropped to those clever fingers, trained on them with obvious approval, before Ezra pushed his jacket from his shoulders.

“You’re an absolute mess,” Ezra said as he gave the count a hooded look. “You have to take everything off.”

Lucio stepped up before him, cornering him against the door. He was so close, Ezra could see his pupils blown wide with want. “I think you’re ahead of me,” he muttered. “Considering you’re undressing me yourself.”

The magician trailed fingers down the firm musculature of his chest, reveling in the tremble that passed through the count. Leaning up, he said, “It’s the least I could do for my valiant savior.”

“Hm, pity,” Lucio returned, angling low to negotiate the distance between them, “when I have something else in mind as a reward.”

The flow took them as rapidly as a receding tide. Yet, this time was wholly different. Ezra’s hands cupped the sides of Lucio’s face as he kissed him gently. Lucio embraced him, but his hands didn’t sneak beneath Ezra’s clothes as he expected. Instead, the count held him tightly as they parted only to meet again, kissing with a tenderness as if it were their first. Ezra’s heart squeezed painfully, but the words he wanted to say dared not leave his tongue.

“Ezra,” Lucio said, brushing lips against his cheek. “What do you want?”

Ezra chuckled softly. “You know what I want, Lucio,” he said. “We’ve done this more than enough times.”

“Mm,” he said, shifting a leg between the magician’s. “Though once, I’d like to hear you actually tell me.”

“M-maybe, _mn_, next time,” Ezra said as his back arched against the door from the brush of Lucio’s loins to his own. “I’ll, mm, tell you everything in explicit detail, step by step.”

“Can’t wait.”

Ezra’s moan was caught in a kiss as Lucio ground against him. He returned the gesture just as eagerly; the sinewy slide of their clothed loins as equally satisfying as it was unsatisfying. Ezra wanted to reach between them and free their cocks, but his attempt would come to no avail as Lucio pushed against him harder, again and again. A familiar coil of pressure built up within Ezra as he deepened his kiss to Lucio, chasing after the satisfaction of release.

Rough and rushed—Lucio had said that’s how he preferred his sex, but even when caught up in his own urges, the count was still taking his time. He suddenly stopped just as Ezra panted for him to continue, giving a glance toward the bed.

“I know that’s not enough for you,” Lucio said as he tugged him along. “There’s more that you want.”

A small laugh bubbled up from Ezra as he was laid upon the bed, his clothes shed without argument. “You know me so well,” he said.

“As you’ve said, we’ve done this more than enough times. I should know by now.”

Lucio had learned from previous mistakes by having the needed essentials placed atop the bedside table instead of in or around it. Joggling a hand around in a drawer was a ripe way to kill the mood, Ezra had noted, even if it took a few times for him to drill it into the count’s head. Yet, as he glanced to the olive-colored phial, Ezra couldn’t deny how embarrassing it was to see it. It was a sign that, no matter what, his time together with Lucio would end in sex. It was the culmination always—a guilty but oh so good end to everything.

The count motioned for him to spread his legs, and Ezra obliged. Gently, with coated fingers, he found the cleft of the magician’s rear and circled his fingers about the puckered orifice. Ezra tensed; the initial insertion of anything always had him giving pause as there was still a slight pain. It only served to be a mild discomfort, however; Lucio knew exactly how to angle his fingers, where to apply pressure as he moved, reducing Ezra to a quivering, panting mess.

The count stretched over the magician, one hand steadfastly at work as he combed the other through Ezra’s wan locks soothingly. Silver eyes watched his face intently, searching for any pain, and any discerned would have the count shifting his touch in another angle, thrusting his fingers tentatively. It was so unlike their previous times; Ezra expected small doses of pain from a nip or playful twist, but instead, Lucio was lovingly careful.

Ezra rose his head to kiss him before dropping it back to the bedspread. “L-Lucio, enough,” he muttered. “You can put it in.”

Lucio brushed his forehead against Ezra’s. “Are you sure?” he returned. “It doesn’t hurt? You’re okay?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he reassured him. “Just… keep going slow. Take your time.”

“Mhm.”

Lucio pressed a kiss to Ezra’s shoulder as he coated his cock in oil. He expected him to be somewhat soft since he hadn’t touched him once, but the count was readily firm as he slipped himself between Ezra’s legs. In the next instance, the familiar, expected pain of being entered was upon him. It was only excruciating come the initial entrance, provoking a whimper from Ezra. But as he adjusted himself as Lucio carefully inched in, it became bearable; a whole new want overcoming Ezra as he urged the count to move.

Lucio thrust slow and deep, making every fiber of Ezra’s being snap and crackle with delight. It was all-consuming, making his toes curl and back arch off the bed as Lucio shifted, going again at a different angle. Like before, not once did Lucio’s gaze leave his face. Even when Ezra threw an arm over himself—thoughts erratic from how _good_ everything was—the count gently brush it aside and continued to behold him.

“_Ungh, _L-Lucio,” Ezra cried, reaching for him. “T-touch, mm, t-touch—mmph…”

Ezra worried his bottom lip between teeth as Lucio reached between their bodies to stroke him to completion. At once, all coherent thoughts within the magician’s mind dissipated into the mesosphere; he was concentrated wholeheartedly on egging Lucio on, throaty cries of, “Don’t stop,” and “Come on” and Lucio’s name intermingled between panting breaths.

When orgasm reached him, warmth pooled in his lower belly burst down every capillary and vein and lingered even when Lucio released him and worked himself to completion. Ezra actually passed out from the sheer force of it; consciousness only returning to him some ten minutes later when he chanced upon Lucio comfortably curled up against his side. Memory escaped him from that small span of time, but when amber eyes met glowing silver ones, Ezra immediately knew he did or said something he would come to regret.

“W-what is it?” the magician said nervously. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Hmm? You really don’t know?” Lucio draped over him, smile glinting from an odd mixture of mirth and amusement. “You can’t remember at all?”

Ezra pouted, brushing a hand through Lucio’s hair. “Don’t play coy,” he said. “Just tell me already.”

“Mm, no. No, I don’t think I will,” Lucio teased. “It’s something just for me.”

“_Lucio_.”

“Nuh-uh. You can’t force it out of me.”

“Stop being a kid.”

“Ezra can’t remember a thing,” he said, sing-song. “How unfortunate for him.”

Ezra grimaced. He was being irritatingly cute, even if he was slowly taming the flames of his temper. He shut his eyes, trying in vain to recall what he said, as Lucio continued to sing his own good graces. Recollection struck him barely a few seconds into thought, causing his skin to gooseflesh in abject horror.

“Oh, _fuck_,” Ezra actually cursed. “Shit, no. No, no. I-I didn’t! I didn’t actually—”

“Hm, do you remember now?” Lucio’s smile curled up higher. “Now you remember what you said?”

Ezra looked at him, horrified. “I-I actually…”

“Mhm…”

“I can’t believe…”

“Yep.”

“I…”

“That’s right.” Lucio hooked a thumb at his chest. “You _actually_ said you loved me. Right to my face.”

Ezra groaned aloud, cupping hands to his face and rolling away from Lucio. He chanted his denial like a mantra even when Lucio answered it back with a string of, “Yes, yes, yes.” Still, the magician’s sudden confession was being taken better than expected; he thought Lucio would turn him down, maybe even break their relationship off for good, if he found out about Ezra’s feelings. Knowing he was content with it warmed his chest a little.

“You know, I had a _feeling_ you did,” Lucio said, holding his chin high. “You’re as stoic as a stone wall, but to think a heart—a heart that beats for _me!_—is in that chest of yours is just, just surprising. You were just too stubborn to say anything.”

Ezra inwardly sighed. He _was_ right, even if he didn’t want to agree. Turning back around to him, he flushed deeply, as he said, “So, now you know, what… W-what do you think of me?”

Lucio blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Do you… perhaps…”

“Well, duh.” Lucio actually leveled a blank look at Ezra, as if he were the stupidest man in the world. “I thought it was obvious.”

“O-obvious?!” Ezra suddenly snarled. “What part of, of _anything_, we did made it obvious?!”

“Remember the first time we met?” Lucio said. “With the rose? I said I liked you. I made my feelings known to you then.”

Ezra’s mouth hung open. “Y-you barely knew me for four minutes,” he said. “How could you—”

Lucio shrugged. “I just knew,” he said, “and look how great that turned out! Now we’re an item. Absolutely an item.”

Ezra rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t go as far as to say that,” he said.

“Why not?”

“You still have a wife, Lucio. She’ll be weary since she now, technically, knows about us.”

“Pah, Noddy would _approve_. You’re a better option then, say, Valey,” he said. “Plus, she thinks of you as a good person. You have her seal of approval.”

Ezra grimaced. “I don’t think it’s you she’s worried for,” he said. “And as insulting as this may sound, I still… question… your affection.”

“Really?” Lucio said with a huff. “Even when I’m being completely forthright?”

“Lucio, you’ve had more lovers in your life than I do fingers and toes,” Ezra said. “What of that is enough to convince me you actually l-love _me?_”

Lucio let out a small sigh, resting his chin on Ezra’s chest. “Honestly? You’re different.”

“That’s not enough of a solid answer.”

“Let me finish. Almost all of my previous partners—Noddy included—hardly considered me worth their time. I was a good lay, that’s it. But you? You actually, well, you actually _talk_ to me, Ezra. Like a person. Unless I’m making demands, n-no one actually addresses me. So, when you do it—even when you’re being a smartass—I actually enjoy it. A lot.”

Lucio’s admittance made Ezra’s heart pang in guilt. “Is that why you never imprisoned me for my sass?” he joked.

“I thought about it thousands of times, but yes, that’s exactly why,” Lucio said. “You’d become someone special. I didn’t want to give what we had up.”

Ezra sighed. The sentiment was sweet, even if his heart went out to all of the poor souls who were jailed or even killed for less. The magician couldn’t forgive Lucio for his foolhardy ways, but he could accept the one being honest with him now.

“This… is going to take a lot of work,” Ezra said wistfully, gaze drifting up to the ceiling. “If we can even call this a relationship now.”

“Call it whatever you want, you’re stuck with me,” Lucio said, grin bright and shining. “After all, you’re the one who gave in—I’m just continuing the game.”


End file.
